Author's notes: The following story takes place soon after the conclusion of Legacy
of the Force.
This is the 10th Star Wars story that I have written. Please leave me feedback, public or through email. (ahandcuffgirl at yahoo dot com)

And
just so you know, Jaina Solo is now Imperial Prostitute SX-51472, or
"Seventy-Two" for short.

Several
months later, on the Star Destroyer Admiral
Daala ...

Seventy-Two
stood in the mirror and inspected her uniform as carefully as she
could. She could feel her chastity belt and corset, invisible but
definitely present. They same for her knee-high boots, locked on
with hidden cuffs. The top edge of her collar was barely visible, if
one looked closely, just as it should be. The sleeves of her jacket
barely covered her silver comlink and chrono cuffs.

The
extra attention to detail was because the Chief of State of the
Galactic Alliance was making an official visit to her namesake ship.
Seventy-Two was really looking forward to seeing her friend, Syal
Antilles, who was accompanying Chief Daala, more, though. Once
Seventy-Two looked her best, she left to assist Admiral Garowyn.

As
a mere corporal, Seventy-Two didn't rate a place in Admiral Garowyn's
greeting party. As the Admiral's personal assistant, however, she
didn't have to stand in the several thousand strong formation that
was assembled for the visiting Chief of State. Instead, Seventy-Two
was standing quietly, well off to one side, observing the ceremony
and watching to see if Admiral Garowyn needed her for anything.

Seventy-Two
mostly watched the central of the three shuttles as they landed,
assuming that was Chief Daala's, and hence her personal pilot, Syal
Antilles, would be flying it. The three shuttles landed virtually
simultaneously in a row.

Then
the three shuttles' ramps lowered and the Imperial formation snapped
to attention. First some ceremonial guards came out of the outer
shuttles and lined up facing the Imperials. It was probably a bias,
but Seventy-Two though that the Imperial uniforms looked much better
than the Rebels'. Then she reminded herself to call them the
Galactic Alliance, and not Rebels,
while they were here.

Some
more guards came out of the center shuttle, and lined up facing each
other. Then two full-armored Mandalorians came out, followed by
Chief Daala and a half-dozen advisors. Last off the shuttle was
another armored Mandalorian. Seventy-Two recognized him by his armor
as Boba Fett.

Chief
of State Daala and Admiral Garowyn spent a few minutes reviewing and
complimenting both sets of troops. The they and their entourages
left the hanger together, to tour the ship itself. Seventy-Two
checked her chrono, and found she had nearly an hour before the tour
would end in the observation gallery, where she was expected to help
serve refreshments.

Nearly
ten minutes later, Seventy-Two and Syal were leaving the hanger
together. Even though she was eight years older than Syal, they had
always been friends, and not just because their families were close.

Syal's
first question was about the spectacles and earpieces.

“The
earpieces mostly play music all day, but they are also linked to my
comlink so I can respond to orders quicker. And the spectacles have
mini-holoscreens on the insides of the lenses. Both help me relax,
and have helped me maintain the awareness and positive attitude I
discovered in the Imperial Academy,” she explained.

That
didn't seem to completely satisfy Syal, but she didn't ask any more
questions about the subject right then.

“So
how do you like being the Galactic Alliance Chief of State's pilot?”
Seventy-Two asked her as they walked towards her quarters.

Syal
paused before replying. “It's okay, but sometimes I miss my
Eta-5, or even an X-wing. Simulators just aren't the same,”
she said longingly.

Seventy-Two
nodded politely. She couldn't even think
of climbing into a snubfighter cockpit again.

“I
know you're not flying fighters these days yourself, but are you
getting any simulator time in?” Syal asked.

The
shock on Syal's face was obvious. “Personal assistant? What
does that mean? And exactly do you do in the ProCorps? I couldn't
find out anything about it besides the Empire's official statement
that it was responsible
for the well-being and morale of the Imperial Navy and Army,
whatever that
means. Jysella's joining it, and even she won't tell me more.”

Seventy-Two
knew she had to be careful about how she answered. Even though the
Empire was part of the Galactic Alliance, that didn't mean there
weren't some things the Rebels didn't need to know.

“Wait
a minute,” Syal interrupted her. “You turned down
promotion to General in the starfighter corps, and left the Jedi
order to be some Imperial Admiral's flunky?!”

Seventy-Two
supposed that was one way to look at it. But not hers. “I
left some things, yes, but the happiness and contentment I've gotten
in return has more than made up for it,” she said calmly and
sincerely.

Syal
was obviously unconvinced. “Well, okay then. Can you tell me
about the ProCorps, though?”>

Now
Seventy-Two had to be really careful. A lot of people, Syal
included, definitely wouldn't understand. “Well, I meet with
Imperial personal that are feeling ... down, and try to cheer them
up.”>

“And
you do that between getting cups of caf for the Admiral,” Syal
said sarcastically.

Seventy-Two
glanced down at her black eighteen-centimeter-heeled boots. “The
heels are part of a ProCorps trooper's uniform, and I like wearing
them anyway. I wear heels pretty much all the time now; except when
I'm in the gym,” Seventy- Two replied.

“If
that what makes you happy then, okay. I must admit though, you do
look chic in your uniform,” Syal added.

“Thanks,”
Seventy-Two replied with a smile. She took a moment to preen,
raising her hands up to the level of her shoulders, which caused the
sleeve of her jacket to slide down a little, and show a flash of her
chrono cuff.

That
resulted in Seventy-Two having to show Syal both her chrono and
comlink cuffs.

“Wow,
can I try them on?” Syal asked with obvious enthusiasm.

Seventy-Two
didn't think her friend was ready to learn that her ProCorps uniform
was locked onto her, and only Admiral Garowyn or the ship's computer
could release her.

“Well,
it's part of my uniform, so I can't really take it off right now, but
I'll see what I can do for you later, okay?” Seventy-Two
offered as the two arrived at her quarters. As she spoke, she
started to push her crotch near the scanner next to her door to open
it. Then she remember that they had reprogrammed her comlink so it
would open the door while Syal was visiting. So she leaned back and
waved her right wrist over the sensor instead.

“You'd
better,” Syal told her with a friendly smile, as the door
closed behind them.

In
the Imperial Navy, most corporals serving on a Star Destroyer slept
eight to a cabin. The only perk they had was their own refresher,
instead of sharing a communal one with hundreds of other troopers on
their deck. In contrast, Seventy-Two had nearly as much space all to
herself, as well as her own 'fresher. The reason she had so much
space to herself was for her to perform her ProCorps duties. Except
when higher ranking Officers wanted her to come to their quarters, of
course.

The
over-sized bed dominated the room. A restraining ring was discreetly
located at each corner, two to each side, and one at the middle of
the head and foot of the bed. There were also several more
restraining rings around the room. For more elaborate bondage
scenarios, there was a special room that all the ship's ProCorps
troops could use.

On
the wall above the bed was the circular Imperial Emblem, one meter in
diameter. Just below that was her serial number in much smaller
letters. Normally, Seventy-Two felt a swell of pride in herself
every time she saw the beautiful Imperial Emblem. Since yesterday,
though, it looked all wrong. When Admiral Garowyn decided that Syal
would be staying in her quarters, Seventy-Two's official
title  Imperial
Prostitute  had
been replaced with the words Imperial
Trooper
before her serial number.

Opposite
the bed was a hundred and ten centimeter holomonitor on the wall. It
was usually synced in with her spectacles and earpieces. Sometimes
though, her clients wanted to watch something else before, during, or
after fucking her, usually holoporn.

“That's
very
subtle,” Syal said sarcastically as she gestured towards the
symbol above the bed.

Seventy-Two
wondered what Syal would think if she showed her the matching tattoo
above her pussy. “The 'fresher's in there,” she said,
pointing to the appropriate door, and politely ignoring the comment.
“And that's the holomonitor.” She purposely didn't
mention the door to her closet, as it had quite a few things in it
that she didn't want Syal to see. At least not yet.

Neither
did she mention that the room was monitored at all times, for her own
safety. Well, that, and training other ProCorps troopers.

“Kind
of bare,” Syal said as she sat on the two-person pouf couch.

It
was. Seventy-Two only came here to sleep, entertain clients, and use
the 'fresher to clean up afterwards. The rest of the time she was at
Admiral Garowyn's side. Or feet. Or between her legs.

“I
know. I don't really spend a lot of time in here,” she
explained to Syal.

“Well,
at least you've got a big holomonitor. And a big bed. I bet you
have a lot of fun there,” Syal said slyly.

How
does she know  ? Seventy-Two
wondered in astonishment. Then she realized that Syal was talking
about regular boyfriend fun. Not
have-fucked-several-hundred-Officers fun, which was fun indeed, even
if Syal, who was still a Rebel, wouldn't understand. “A
little,” she replied with a soft smile and a wink.

A
few minutes later, the ship's computer alerted Seventy-Two that it
was time to go make sure everything was ready for the reception. She
made sure Syal would be okay by herself, and left for the Observation
Gallery.

Seventy-Two
arrived and began double checking that everything was ready. Admiral
Garowyn had told her that it would be a very small gathering, and
only wanted her to serve drinks and finger-food.

Nearly
fifteen minutes after the reception's scheduled start, Admiral
Garowyn arrived with Chief of State Daala. Seventy-Two thought it
was strange that only they and Boba Fett were there. Still, that
wasn't anything she should concern herself with.

Admiral
Garowyn presented Seventy-Two to her guests. “And this is my
personal assistant. You might have known her as Jaina Solo, but now
she is Imperial Trooper SX-51472. However, you can call her
Seventy-Two for short.”>

Seventy-Two
blushed slightly as she stood at parade rest, silently listening to
her Admiral introduce her.

Chief
Daala took moment to stroll around her, getting a good look at her
backside. “You seem to have taken to your Imperial training,
Seventy-Two?” she asked as she completed the circle.

“Yes,
Chief Daala,” Seventy-Two replied dutifully.

“She
has more than taken to the training, Chief Daala,” Admiral
Garowyn said. “She has enlisted in the ProCorps, and is a
great little personal assistant for me,” she beamed.

Seventy-Two
blushed at Admiral Garowyn's praise.

“Ah,
the Prostitution Corps,” Chief Daala said with admiration. “An
excellent place for someone such as yourself,” she added with a
hint of malevolence.

“Would
you care to see the rest of her uniform?” Admiral Garowyn
offered.

Seventy-Two
was surprised by the offer, and the fact that Chief Daala knew what
the ProCorps really was. As for the offer, it wasn't that she was
embarrassed, it was that Chief Daala wasn't an Imperial; at least not
currently. As for Chief Daala's apparent knowledge of her duties to
the Empire, Seventy-Two just hoped it wouldn't cause problems for the
Empire. A lot of Rebels, her parents among them, wouldn't
understand.

Seventy-Two
had forgotten about the armored Mandalorian in the room. A former
trainer of hers.

“Not
at all,” he said through his helmet speakers.

Admiral
Garowyn reach into her pocket, and keyed the remote. Seventy-Two
heard the 'click' and felt her belt unlock.

“Strip,”
Admiral Garowyn ordered her.

“Yes
Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied cheerfully as she pulled off her
belt.

Thanks
to Seventy-Two's ProCorps training, whenever she undressed in front
of others, which was often, she did so in order to maximize their
arousal. Even when she was alone, she assumed that she was being
monitored, and endeavored to put on a little strip-tease for the
security troopers watching her. Imperial Prostitute SX-51472,
formerly known as Jaina Solo, smiled seductively at Chief Daala as
she stripped for her audiences' pleasure.

“Leave
the cap on,” Admiral Garowyn instructed her as she reached for
her headgear. “You are still on duty,” she explained.

Seventy-Two
laid her belt neatly on the back of an unused chair. Next she
stripped off her uniform jacket, revealing her gleaming durasteel
corset and collar. While the bottom of the corset disappeared
underneath her jodhpurs, the top formed a sort of rounded shelf for
her breasts, supporting them while leaving her nipples easily
visible; and vulnerable.

The
collar was a dull gray durasteel, to match her uniform jacket. The
heavier gorget sections hugged the contour of her neck and shoulders
down to about eight centimeters below the bottom of her neck. The
part that went around her neck was
about
four centimeters tall.

Seventy-Two
could feel Chief Daala's amusement, and arousal as she laid her
jacket across the back of the chair over her belt. She couldn't feel
anything from Fett, but she hadn't got much of a feel for him on
Mandalore, either.

“The
boots and pants,” Admiral Garowyn instructed her.

Seventy-Two
felt the hidden shackles at her ankles and below her knees unlock as
Admiral Garowyn activated the remote again. As usual, she was
starting to get aroused as she took off her uniform. The presence of
Chief Daala and Fett only seemed to make it worse.

Seventy-Two
pulled off the knee boots, then the tight gray jodhpurs. She laid
the jodhpurs down over her jacket. Then she grabbed her boots and
looked up at Admiral Garowyn, expecting to be told to put the boots
back on. Admiral Garowyn gave her a single nod, and she pulled the
boots back up her legs.

“The
boots have hidden cuffs at her ankles and just below her knees that
lock automatically,” Admiral Garowyn explained to her guests as
the shackles audibly snapped shut around Seventy-Two's lower legs.
“The chastity belt, corset, collar, chrono and comlink cuffs
also lock automatically, and can only be opened by myself or the
ship's computer,” she said as Seventy-Two stood back up. “Oh,
and the uniform belt too,” she added.

“Very
nice,” Chief Daala said appreciatively as she admired
Seventy-Two's toned thighs. Then she noticed the ink partially
hidden by the former Jedi's chastity belt. “Is that the
Imperial Emblem tattooed on her?” Chief Daala asked as she
looked at the parts of the tattoo not covered by the chastity belt.

“It
is,” Admiral Garowyn confirmed, both completely ignoring the
half-naked Seventy-Two. “And that's her Imperial title and
serial number below it,” she added with satisfaction.

“Very
Impressive!” Chief Daala replied as she leaned forward to get a
better look at the tattoo peeking out from either side of the
chastity belt's crotch-strap.

Chief
Daala stood back upright. “She has another tattoo?” she
asked, as Seventy-Two turned away from her. Then Chief Daala looked
back at Seventy-Two and let out a long whistle. “Now THAT'S
dedication!” she exclaimed, when she read the words Imperial
Property
tattooed across the ass of the daughter of two of the Empire's most
famous enemies.

After
several seconds, Chief Daala asked Admiral Garowyn another question.
“I've been out of the loop awhile. Do all the ProCorps
troopers have these tats now?”>

“I'm
not sure, Chief Daala. All the ones on board the Daal this
ship  do,” she replied without repeating the word Daala.

“Excellent.
I'll have to congratulate Moff Fel for such a wonderful idea for the
ProCorps,” Chief Daala responded as she circled around
Seventy-Two. Then she reached out to touch her. “May I?”
she asked Admiral Garowyn politely.

“By
all means,” Admiral Garowyn replied with a nod.

Seventy-Two
obediently stood still as Chief Daala ran her hand across her
midsection, over her durasteel corset. The she felt Chief Daala
reach up and lightly pinch her nipple.

“Do
you enjoy your role in the Empire, my dear?” she asked as she
ran her hand around the waist of Seventy-Two's chastity belt.

“Very
much, Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied quickly and cheerfully.

“And
do your parents know just how their little girl is serving the
Empire?” she asked as she ran her fingers down the front of her
chastity belt, pressing it against her wet pussy.

“No
Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied, with a hint of fear in her voice
from the question. She glanced at Admiral Garowyn, pleading for
assistance.

“It's
alright, Seventy-Two,” Admiral Garowyn said soothingly. “I'm
sure Chief Daala is just curious, and would never reveal an Imperial
trooper's confidential duties to unauthorized personnel, even their
families.”

Chief
Daala chuckled as she took Seventy-Two's wrist in her hand and
examined her comlink cuff. “Oh, of course my dear. Whatever
you say to me won't leave this room,” she assured her.

“Yes
Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am,” Seventy-Two said with relief.

Chief
Daala was clearly impressed with Seventy-Two's obedience and
enthusiasm.

“Moff
Fel has been telling me to send Syal to the Academy, but I didn't
want to be without her, or upset her parents too much,” Daala
commented after awhile. “If they can turn a Jedi Knight into
this, though ...” she added thoughtfully.

“I
arranged for her to stay in Seventy-Two's quarters while you are
visiting. I think after watching her holoscreen for awhile young
Antilles will be more inclined towards the Imperial Academy,”
Admiral Garowyn said with satisfaction.

“What?”
Chief Daala asked, momentarily puzzled. Then she obviously realized
what Admiral Garowyn meant. “Ah, I see,” she answered
with her own satisfaction.

Seventy-Two
knew that ProCorps troopers' holoscreens, not to mention their
earpieces and spectacles, helped remove unhealthy inhibitions and put
them in touch with their suppressed inner desires. She thought they
would only help trained ProCorps troopers, but she wanted Syal to go
to the Academy as well, so she just brushed the thought aside and
pushed her chest a little farther out like she had been trained.

“Would
you like her to provide some brief entertainment?” Admiral
Garowyn asked Chief Daala.

“By
all means,” Chief Daala replied with a raised eyebrow.

Before
Seventy-Two could figure out exactly what she was expected to do, she
felt, and heard, the distinct click of her chastity belt unlocking.

“Yes
Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied cheerfully as she pulled her
chastity belt apart and pushed it down her legs. She stepped out of
the chastity belt and laid it aside. Then, Seventy-Two spread her
feet apart and obediently used her fingers to masturbate herself for
Admiral Garowyn and her guests.

“Very
submissive, I see,” Chief Daala said. “And completely
hairless!” She smiled as she watched Seventy-Two's
well-trained fingers thrust in and out of her pussy. “Is that
standard as well?”

“According
to her file, the submissiveness was natural, but she was forced to
repress it while she suffered under the twisted corruption of the
Jedi and the New Republic,” Admiral Garowyn explained. She
purposely didn't mention the Galactic Alliance, since she was
speaking to its current Chief of State. “Her ProCorps training
simply brought out and enhanced it.”

Meanwhile
Seventy-Two was biting her lip in concentration as she continued to
masturbate in front of them. She didn't want to embarrass Admiral
Garowyn in front of such an important guest. It wasn't everyday she
got to masturbate in front of a Chief of State, especially an
Imperial hero such as Chief Daala! Besides, Admiral Garowyn was only
telling the truth about her.

“I
meant her lack of pubic hair,” Chief Daala said with an amused
smile.

“Oh,”
Admiral Garowyn replied, embarrassed at the misunderstanding. “Well
actually, she came to the Empire that way. According to her medical
records, she stopped growing hair below her neck around the time of
the First Battle of Duro, during the Yuuzhan Vong War. The records
didn't say why, but after some ... counseling, she admitted that she
thinks it is the result of her going through a decontamination
procedure just before the battle,” Admiral Garowyn explained.

“How
interesting,” Chief Daala replied as she watched the former
Jedi Knight shove three fingers into her soaking pussy while pinching
her clit with her other hand.

“After
further counseling she told us what she recalled of the
decontamination procedure. Apparently it was very ... invasive, and
humiliating for the young girl,” Admiral Garowyn added. “She
finally revealed that she enjoyed it quite a bit.”

“Really,”
Chief Daala said. Then, after a few minutes thought, asked, “Could
you forward me the details when you get the chance?”

Admiral
Garowyn paused a moment. “I'll have to get clearance from
higher-up, but I don't think it will be a problem, Chief Daala,”
she answered.

“Excellent,”
she replied, still watching the former Jedi Knight masturbate in
front of her. “She won't make a mess on the floor, will she?”
Chief Daala asked, concerned.

Seventy-Two
grunted in concentration. She wanted to moan, but didn't want to
interrupt Admiral Garowyn and Chief Daala's conversation. She
stroked her fingers in and out faster, she was so close.

Admiral
Garowyn smiled. “Very rarely. And when she does, she gets
punished, which can be very entertaining itself.” Then she
thought a moment. “But allowing my subordinates to make a mess
while a visiting dignitary is present would be rude.” She
glanced back at Seventy-Two. “Stop,” she said, changing
the tone of her voice into an order.

Instantly,
and on the verge of orgasm, Seventy-Two pulled her fingers out and
dropped her hands to her sides. Sometimes, Admiral Garowyn would let
her finish if she stood there silently.

“Yes
Ma'am, thank you Ma'am,” Seventy-Two responded obediently as
she licked her juices off her fingers. She did that not so much
because she wanted to, but because she had been trained not to get
her pussy juice on the chastity belt anymore than she had too. Then
she picked up her chastity belt, slid it up her legs, took a deep
breath, and closed the ends together, locking it into place.

Seventy-Two
washed her hands in the sink behind the small bar and retrieved the
drinks and snacks from the conservator. Admiral Garowyn and Chief
Daala sat down at the large table, and Fett pulled a chair into a
nearby corner. Still only wearing her uniform cap, collar, corset,
chastity belt, boots, chrono and comlink cuffs, Seventy-Two served
the two ladies food and drinks while they, and Fett a little, talked.

Seventy-Two
stayed busy by keeping their drinks refreshed, and snacks with in
easy reach. After nearly an hour and a half of relaxing and
chatting, Admiral Garowyn instructed Seventy-Two to get dressed
again.

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